


Heart of Black

by EtoileNefertari



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hogwarts First Year, My First Fanfic, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV First Person, POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, Self-Insert, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2018-09-01 07:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8615887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtoileNefertari/pseuds/EtoileNefertari
Summary: Yep, it's an SI. I am aware the majority of you hate it, but if you don't then by all means check it out. I'm just having fun with it. / A Potterhead wakes up in the body of 11 year old witch Elizabeth Fawley, in the year 1991. Shenanigans ensue.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter or its rights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello fellow Potter maniacs,
> 
> I'm just adding a quick note to say that from time to time I might beef up the preexisting chapters with a bit more dialogue or description. I guess right now I'm kind of rushing to the Main Character's introduction to the Wizarding World, where I plan on spending more time on. I'm doing this for fun, so I'm not really pressured by anything or anyone in sharing the final version of the story.  
> I decided to post this fanfic so that anyone can join me on this crazy ride and comment along the way. I like hearing from others, and maybe something you say will change my mind about the direction of this fic so far. 
> 
> Cheers!

If someone had told me that my life would end after my 23rd birthday, I would have most likely looked at them funny and asked to spare the ominous predictions for those who actually believed in such nonsense.

No, that was a disturbing thought to have. Not because I assumed I would never die, I'm not soft in the head. For some reason when you are in your twenties you hardly consider the possibility of kicking the bucket young. Obviously, it happens to some; you'd read about it in the news and would think of how terrible it was when young lives are interrupted so soon, and comment on the unnaturalness of such occurrence.

I passed away on a cold November night. Nothing memorable happened, it was no grandiose death. Because of that, I can never fully recall what happened to me, for some reason those memories seem to evade me to this day, while I can clearly remember even the smallest details about the life I carried until then.

I was about to hop in the shower when suddenly I felt like I was being wrapped in a warm blanket, almost as if I was being enveloped in the black, thick darkness of my room. All I could hear was a gurgling sound bubbling up in my ears, just like at the bottom of the ocean. I tried wiggling my body but found it aching, the pain was shooting up and down my nervous system.

I desisted after a while, deciding it'd be best to remain still and wait it out. A sense of abandonment coursed through me, and I allowed myself to be numbed out by all the oddly relaxing stimuli around me.

Finally I was calm, happy, at peace.


	2. Chapter 1

I woke up after what felt like ages. Oversleeping always had me groggy and in a bad mood all day, so I mentally prepared myself for a particularly rough awakening.

I tried stretching my arms, cursing softly when the movement was a little painful. Slowly, I rolled on my side and reached with my hands to my back, where I felt the most of the discomfort.

I gently massaged a point at the center of my spine and thought that I likely had a big bruise there. Scrunching my face in deep thought, I went through the events of the previous day and realized that I didn't remember anything in particular that could have caused it. Yesterday I had woken up, worked from home, went for a run, and got back to cook dinner, as always.

_Apart from that run I was sitting down all day, so I couldn't have bumped into anything that would make me feel this shitty._

Nope, nothing came to mind. Weird. I decided to put my stream of consciousness aside and get up.

 _BAD IDEA_ , my mind screamed. With a loud thump, my body fell back on the bed.

 _Ok, don't panic, it'll be gone soon_ , I thought trying to calm myself down.

As I kept musing over the pains of my body, I heard a clear popping sound coming from the left side of the bed. The room was dark, and I couldn't make out many things from where I was laying down.

As any good millennial trained for the zombie apocalypse would do, I reached near my pillow for my phone, so that I could use the flashlight and see what had caused the noise. I fumbled a bit with the linens and pillows, as I couldn't seem to find it anywhere, and my mind entered "alert mode" almost immediately.

As I trashed on the bed looking maniacally for my phone, the source of the noise addressed me from wherever it was standing.

"Miss has woken up! Dixie knew it would be soon!" said a squeaky voice. "Dixie will call Madame to come to see you now!"

A second after that I heard the popping sound once more, and the mysterious voice was gone. What kind of name is Dixie anyways, some rejected idea for a Teletubbies? And who was Madame?

I wasn't sure of anything at this point, and couldn't Google my symptoms to strike out any sort of illness induced hallucination. My flight or flee instincts kicked in, but I decided to stay put and play it safe. Whatever was going on, I would take my time to study the situation and act accordingly.

It was then that the doors of my room opened up, allowing a stream of light in the pitch-black space. I couldn't even register the unfamiliarity of the place that an old lady, with flowing silver hair and bright blue eyes hurried towards me. She was dressed in an elegant white nightgown and velvet slippers.

"Ah, _mon cherie_! I'm so glad you are fine!" cried the woman with a thick French accent, sitting on my bed and gently circling my body with her arms. She had probably been crying profusely, judging by the redness in her eyes and wet face. I went stiff in a second, but couldn't do much more than just lie there and allow her to hug me.

"I was _so worried_ about you", she said squeezing me a little. "Zee healer said it would be weeks before you would wake up again".

Healer? Weeks before I'd wake up? Ok, something was definitely wrong here. I was either having a very lucid dream or had been kidnapped in the night by some delusional French grandma. Either way, it was quite disconcerting. So I asked what I thought was the safest question considering the situation.

"What happened to me?" I said slowly, and a higher pitch voice almost childlike came out of my mouth instead of my own. What the heck?

The old lady's lower lip trembled a bit, as she seemed to fight back tears. She probably read the confusion on my face as a normal reaction to whatever I had gone through to need medical assistance.

" _Mon ange_ , you were hurt in zee experiment your mom and dad were doing" started the woman, "and zee healer said you almost didn't make it".

A choke interrupted her and she started sobbing.

All thoughts regarding my voice forgotten once my parents were mentioned, I became extremely agitated. Sure, my parents were both scientists and most definitely conducted experiments for their research, but it had never been anything dangerous. Additionally, I hadn't gone to see them yesterday, so it just didn't make sense.

"Where are they? My parents, I mean", I added quickly as if it wasn't clear enough whom I was referring to. Maybe the lady was just an emotional and overzealous nurse that my parents had hired and who had been told to stay with me while I recovered.

My question was met with some more sobbing, and my stomach dropped.

"Oh, _cherie_ , I am so sorry" she sobbed and added in a strangled voice "they didn't make it".

It was then that I fainted.


	3. Chapter 2

I woke up again feeling cold and looked around in search of the source of the chilly temperature. For the first time, I took in my surroundings.

Unlike before I had lost my senses, a small porcelain lamp next to me illuminated the room. I was in a big, beautiful canopy bed covered in light grey bedding with intricate scrollwork details in lilac.

It went nicely with the rest of the space, which had indigo walls and dark antique furniture like in one of those old English Manors you see in Downtown Abbey.

I looked around and saw that the wall behind the bed was covered in windows. Most of them were draped off with heavy curtains; all except one, which was open and letting in a cold breeze. It was dark outside, probably the middle of the night.

As I snuggled further in the duvet, all memories of my encounter with the French woman flooded my mind after a minute or so and my breath hitched.

I needed to understand what was going on, as this didn't look like it was just a bad dream. On the other hand, things didn't add up so I couldn't just jump to conclusions. That, or I was in denial about the whole thing.

With a heavy lump in my throat and tears threatening to spill from my eyes, I took a deep breath and decided to look back at everything I had discovered until then.

I was in a strange house that I'd never been in before, with a woman I didn't know but seemed to know me (or thought she did), and there was this Dixie person who had gone to call on the French lady.

If I truly had gotten hurt in an accident, I would have been taken to the hospital. And even if there were fancy looking private clinics in the world, I didn't see any machinery or IV sacks next to my bed. This looked like someone's house, and a pretty exquisite one at that, judging by the interior design.

Had I been kidnapped? It all reminded me vaguely of Stephen King's Misery for some reason.

I needed more information to get a full picture of what was going on, and to get back home as soon as possible. Considering that I was still feeling pretty crappy and wouldn't be able to leave on my own if I tried, I resolved to call out for someone to enlighten me further.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" I asked tentatively and was again horrified to hear a high-pitched version of my own voice instead. Had the accident affected my vocal cords?

I was in mid-thought when I saw it. Out of thin air, a small creature with bat-like ears and big, puppy eyes appeared next to my bed, making that popping sound I heard before. It was wearing a small forest green tunic and smiling wildly at me.

I blinked once, then twice at the thing and my mind went blank. I think I was too shocked to react properly.

"Miss called for Dixie?" said the little creature with a pleading voice.

I must have looked quite dumb at that moment, as I just stared at Dixie for a good minute. Then I cleared my throat and addressed him (or her? It, let's call the thing "it").

"Uh, hello," I said cautiously, trying not to have a mental breakdown. "Would you mind telling me where I am?"

"In Fawley Court in Edinburgh, Miss" Dixie responded promptly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Fawley Court in Edinburgh. Huh. Ok, this was getting weirder by the minute, but I needed to get to bottom of it.

"And…why am I here?" my voice sounding shriller than before.

Dixie looked at me as if I had grown a second head. "Because it is your home, Miss. You live here with Madame."

"Madame…?" I asked uncertainly.

"Madame Noir, Miss. Your grandmother!" huffed the creature impatiently.

Oddly enough, that was more of a curveball for me than the fact that I was speaking with some strange looking being that really reminded me of… but no, it couldn't be. Nope.

I decided to play the post-traumatic confusion card and pretend I was just having a mild case of amnesia.

_Maybe playing along will get me somewhere._

"Right, and err… Dixie, who am I again? That accident must have messed up with my head a bit." I said massaging my temples.

"Elizabeth Fawley, Miss. You are the heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Fawley, of the Sacred-Twenty Eight. Dixie is honored to serve such an important family!" recited Dixie in one breath, bowing slightly.

Ok, now I was on the verge of a panic attack. I must have been in a coma or something, it couldn't be real. It couldn't be. WHAT THE ACTUAL FU-

"Dixie, could you please bring me a newspaper?" I said suddenly, breaking that train of thought just in time before I started hyperventilating.

In a moment Dixie disappeared right before my very eyes, which caused my jaw to drop, and after a few seconds, the creature reappeared with a paper in its hands. I took it and didn't have time to thank Dixie that it spoke again.

"Dixie will go prepare a meal for Miss, as it has been a long time since she has eaten," said in a worried tone. My stomach growled in response and seemed to only further prove Dixie's point. I nodded dumbly and again witnessed the disappearance followed by a loud pop.

 _Right, OK._ I took a deep breath. _Unless I'm hallucinating all of this, I have just spoken to a house-elf called Dixie, who serves the Fawley family, one of the Sacred-Twenty Eight. Most important of all, it seems under the impression that I am someone called Elizabeth Fawley and my grandma is the French lady with grey hair I spoke to before._ I exhaled slowly. _Brilliant._

Brilliant, indeed. All those words most definitely rang a bell, as I had grown up to love the series of books about the Harry Potter world (not to mention its many fanfictions). To say that I was a huge Potterhead was an understatement.

I had so many conflicting emotions going on, a part of me wanted to start jumping up and down the bed, because MAGIC IS REAL, DAMMIT, and another part of me was about to burst into tears because I just wanted to go home.

I then realized that I was still holding the newspaper in my hands that was, you guessed it, none other than the Daily Prophet. The front page read "NEO ELECT MINISTER FUDGE ALMOST THROWN OUT OF THE WINDOW BY EX MUGGLE PRIME MINISTER", with a moving picture of what looked remarkably like Cornelius Fudge (the similarities between him and actor who played him in the movies were uncanny!) standing next to the unmistakable Margaret Thatcher. That threw me off big time, so I searched for the date on the corner of the paper.

It was the 31st of July 1991. Harry Potter would turn eleven years old today. Hagrid was most likely breaking in the hut in the middle of the sea and taking him away from the Dursleys. And I wasn't even born yet. Shit.

At that point, I could hardly believe my mind had manufactured it all. Looking through the newspaper, and the amount of detail there was in it, I somehow decided that this wasn't just a figment of my imagination.

Undeniably, my mind felt clear, and not under some spell. My heart painfully lost not to be in my home, and apparently not even in my time, but I seemed to be ok with the world I had stepped in. I had no idea how that had happened, or if I was still alive, but I couldn't bring myself to panic over that. It was an odd feeling, and I couldn't explain it.

Mind over matter, I chanted in my head.

After having gone through the entirety of the Prophet (which had me grinning and tearing up because OMIGOSH IT'S ALL REAL!), I wondered if the knowledge I had on the future of this universe was accurate, or if the Harry Potter books were just a dramatization of the actual story. Either way, I felt comforted by the fact that I knew quite a lot about the wizarding world, especially considering that I was just a muggle.

One thing was for certain: I needed to keep a low profile for the time being. What if someone found out of who I was and what I knew? What would happen to me then? I wouldn't want to risk it.

This was a dream come true, literally, and while I would most definitely try to work out whatever had happened to bring me there, I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to just enjoy being in the wizarding world. No way in hell.

Those were my thoughts when the door to my room opened once more.


	4. Chapter 3

The woman who Dixie had called Madame Noir walked into my room for the second time since I'd woken up in this world. Her attire had changed: she was now in navy blue formal robes. She held herself with poised elegance and seemed to be almost dancing as she made way to the bed. I then noticed that behind her a levitating tray with food was approaching as well, probably what Dixie had prepared for me.

"Lizzie, _mon cherie_ , I am glad you're awake once more," said the French woman upon arriving next to me. "I brought you something to eat, it will help with zee recovery".

I smiled shyly at that, seeing the look of utter adoration she was giving me. Who didn't like to be fussed over when feeling bad?

"Thanks" I responded, eyeing avidly the stew with mashed potatoes fluctuating next to her.

The tray flew over me and landed on my legs, and after looking at my new grandma for approval, which she answered with a fervent nod, I dag in the meal. It was truly delicious.

After a bit, Madame Noir spoke. "Dixie was telling me you were having memory problems?"

I almost choked on the bit of potatoes in my mouth and chased it with some pumpkin juice. After recomposing myself, I tried to be as convincing as possible.

"I think I hit my head badly, so I was confused for a while" my hand moved to the side of my face pensively.

She looked at me with a worried expression and seemed to think about it for a minute.

"I will have to ask zee Healer later if we can give you a potion for it" her hands clasped tightly in front of her, "But what matters is that you will get better soon".

As I wasn't responding at all she added "I can also give you some old photo albums, family heirlooms and help you with anything you don't remember".

"That would be great!" I was truly excited at the thought of going through more magical artifacts. Meanwhile, I was trying to think of subtle ways to ask for information about my new "family". The best course of action was using my knowledge of the Harry Potter world to at least look like I knew the basics of how everything worked around here. It would make me look less suspicious.

"So…" I began, "I can't quite remember what mom and dad did for a living" throwing an innocent look her way.

The woman considered me for a bit and responded. "I suppose that they didn't talk about it to you a lot" she said. "They did not really tell anyone too, as they were Unspeakables".

My mouth dropped at that.

"They worked in the Department of Mysteries?" I inquired in a heartbeat. It was so fascinating to learn more about my parents in this world and learn that they were two badass wizards who worked on top-secret projects for the Ministry of Magic. But immediately after that thought, I was hit with a pang of sadness, remembering that they had both passed away. My enthusiasm faded quickly.

She smiled sadly at me "Yes, both of them. That's how they met years ago." Her eyes wandered to the nearest window.

"Madame Maxime herself had recommended your mother Jacqueline when she graduated from Beauxbatons to work there. And Edmund had been one of zee top students from Hogwarts and had decided to take up zee job after interning for a while."

"What house was Dad in?" I wondered, not realizing I had asked it out loud.

"I believe he was in Ravenclaw house", Madame Noir said with a little smirk. "House of the intelligent, right?" she shook her head slightly. "I never understood how things worked at Hogwarts".

She then turned to look at me curiously. "Have you thought of which house you would prefer?" asked Madame Noir breaking my train of thought.

My perfectly crafted poker face probably faltered at that point, as I could feel my right eye twitching. Just when you think there aren't any more bombshells to be thrown at you…

"What do you mean?" I asked in a little voice.

"You will be going to Hogwarts soon, _cherie_ , and you never told me what House you would like to be put in" she said with a little smile.

That could only mean…

"Wait, when was I born again?" The panic in my voice was obvious at this point, and I mentally cursed for dropping my façade.

Madame Noir seemed to be even more concerned, as she furrowed her brows pensively at me.

"The 17th of October 1979, _mon coeur_ ". Her eyes seem to tear up looking at my puzzled expression. She walked up to me and put a hand on my head, most likely checking my temperature.

"I will go fire-call zee Healer immediately" the woman announced and sauntered out of my room.

In the meantime, my mind was on fire. I slowly looked down on my body, taking in the size of my hands.

Moving my duvet away from me, I noticed that instead of my usual black leggings and baggy shirt I was clad in what seemed like lavender satin pajamas. My feet looked smaller than before, and I appeared to be occupying a very small amount of the big bed I was in.

Christ. Or should I say Merlin?


	5. Chapter 4

A couple of weeks had passed since that last conversation with Madame Noir, whom I learned was called Constance, but that past Elizabeth liked to refer to as "Nana Connie".

Once I finally got the chance to go shower, I realized that I had retained my old body. The short 11-year version of it, complete with shoulder-length honey-colored hair with a thick, puffy fringe, and brown eyes. Why was that? Was Elizabeth Fawley my look-alike (or the other way around), or had the Potter Universe somehow magically incorporated a younger me in its world? Did that mean I wouldn't exist in the future?

Gosh, it was all so confusing.

Because my body was still quite feeble, I spent most of my days in bed thinking everything through and resting. Whenever I felt like it, I'd walk around Fawley Court and get lost in its many rooms. It was a gorgeous historical manor shaped like an "E" and developed in three floors. The cozy English countryside design inside, with eighteenth-century paneling, carpets, and big paintings, contrasted beautifully with the eerie looking garden, which was dark and mostly left to its own.

On a visit to its enormous library, I managed to snatch a few books on the Magical History of Europe and specifically Britain. It was a decent way to pass the time and also learn a bit more about my current reality. At that point, I had resigned myself to the fact that I was here to stay, or at least as long as I didn't discover a way to get back. I hadn't found any book that gave me a clue about my predicament, more so considering that I knew nothing about magical theory. I'd have to wait until I had a sense of what I was looking for. Or maybe I was subconsciously prolonging my time in this reality?

My mind alternated between moments of extreme elation for being a part of a book series I had loved for half my life, and others when I was crushed at the thought that I might not see my real family ever again. This was not a situation you could just feel one way about.

Dixie kept me company and cheered me up for the most part, and from time to time "Nana Connie" would chat with me or read me a story before bedtime. I appreciated it immensely; it could get lonely in that big house.

After having learned the basics of my medical condition, asked a few questions about my grandmother and my family, I poked around the subject of Voldemort and the situation at the Ministry.

In my previous life I had been always very interested in politics, so I was thoroughly fascinated with how things worked in magical Britain government-wise. JK Rowling had only given us a glimpse into how the Ministry functioned, as Harry didn't seem that interested in the topic at all.

I learned that my great-grandfather Hector Fawley had been Minister of Magic from 1925 to 1939. Unfortunately, he didn't respond adequately to the threat of Grindelwald during his time, so he was forced to resign. Meanwhile, that occurrence had slightly decreased the prestige of the Fawley family, being one of the Sacred Twenty-eight still made me part of what was considered wizard nobility, which was great.

I didn't need to fear about being belittled for my ancestry, as all that seemed to matter nowadays was the purity of one's lineage. The Fawleys had nothing to worry about there.

Still, the question remained on what my family's allegiance had been during the First Wizarding War. So far it was clear to me that the House of Fawley was very proud of being pureblood, and had enjoyed its influence in Wizengamot. There were some rumors that Hector Fawley secretly subscribed to the blood purity agenda, but none of his sons or grandchildren seemed to have publicly affiliated themselves with Voldemort or the Death Eaters in their lifetimes. My parents, in particular, had decided to break with the family tradition of being involved in politics and went for a more scholarly career.

One night, before going to sleep, I asked Nana Connie about her thoughts on the principles behind the war. She seemed taken aback by my sudden interest in the matter but nevertheless responded.

"My family, the Noirs, bragged about being zee only true pure magical family in all Northern France," said Nana with a small smile "but it has been confirmed that real pureblooded Houses stopped existing some time after zee 1900s".

That seemed reasonable, there's only so much inbreeding you could do to maintain your linage muggle free.

" _Moi?_ I never cared about such things. If there is one lesson I learned after zee War in Europe was that we should all live and let live".

She tucked a stray hair out of my face behind my ear and continued.

"As long as we maintain zee Statue of Secrecy, there is plenty of space for us to exist and aspire to rule over our own kind. We can all be special and useful to our community, we just need to find our place in zee world and follow our dreams, while respecting the freedom of others".

And I agreed with her. Blood purity was the equivalent of the Aryan race in Nazi Germany; supremacy based on ostensibly scientific hypothesis makes me feel sick to my stomach.

I was glad to learn that my grandmother, as my guardian and only other representative of my House besides me, didn't hold particularly close-minded views. After all, another war was coming, and I knew which side would win. It would have been more difficult for me to get by in a bigoted pureblood family.

At the same time, being muggle-born would have made me a likely target of the future anti-muggle agenda carried out by Voldemort supporters in the Ministry.

I didn't know how long it'd take me before I would get back home, so I at least felt less at risk considering the situation. Survival was my main focus.

My mind kept going back to the fact that I'd attend Hogwarts soon and how my presence would affect the "main story". As long as I didn't completely butterfly-effect the whole thing, I would try not to screw up important plot points, or at least ensure that Harry would still be able to defeat Voldemort when the time came. But no more than that.

In no way I wanted to be in charge of defeating Tom Riddle. None whatsoever. I would fight if strictly necessary, but I'd be cautious in sharing my allegiance to the Order's cause. Heck, I'd be careful in befriending any of the main people who would have to vanquish the Dark Lord just to make sure I wouldn't have to take too much part in it.

My main goals so far were to get by in the magical community, learn how to protect myself and understand how and why I had stumbled upon this universe. And maybe have a little fun in between. _Juuust a little._

"Don't forget that we're going to Diagon Alley tomorrow" reminded me Nana from the door of my bedroom. "Don't stay up too late tonight, we're going first thing in zee morning".

Yes, I would have some fun while I could.


	6. Chapter 5

My lack of sleep that night was a clear sign that things were starting to hit me. While I had spent the past few days reading about the wizarding community and witnessing some magic around the house, it was a completely different deal to prepare myself to visit one of the places my imagination had traveled to so many times.

The Harry Potter books had been with me for the better part of my formative years. Like many others from my generation, it had arguably shaped my values and affected the way I was to this day.

I had been a very creative kid growing up, so the stories written by JK Rowling were right up my alley. I was the kind of child that got overly enthusiastic when thinking of imaginary worlds with spells and enchantments, magical creatures and talking objects, heroes, and enemies fighting for what they believed in. There was nothing I wanted more than jump into a fantasy book and join the characters’ adventures.

Having to go to Diagon Alley now forced me to revisit that side of my personality and life now, and realized how much strength I had drawn from Harry’s world. There were so many instances where I had escaped to Diagon Alley, Hogwarts or Hogsmeade with my mind when I was stressed out or facing a difficult situation. I believe my resilience in life stemmed from a mix between my rationality and the ability to create a safe mental landscape where I could keep my psyche in check. Needless to say, I was very possessive towards the Potter universe, but until then I had never realized just how much.

In no time, the sun had risen and Dixie had come to wake me up. Walking down the magnificent staircase of Fawley Court in my dark purple dress, I fought to keep my eyes open.

A yawn escaped my mouth as I entered the large dining area, shaped in a long rectangle. The eastern wall was covered in windows, while the southern housed a roaring fireplace. I had long realized that the general theme of this mansion was dark colored wallpapers, black wooden furniture, and paintings of natural sceneries. You could find the odd portrait of a family member here and there, but most of the art in the house were landscapes.

I approached my usual seat near the head of the table, close to the fireplace. Nana Connie was immersed in the Daily Prophet as every morning, and only after a bit, she looked my way.

“Good morning _mon coeur_ ” Nana scanned my face and frowned slightly.

“You didn’t sleep a bit, did you?”

“No” I rubbed my face with my hands and sighed. I shook my head to wake myself up and went to grab some porridge with fruit.

Nana Connie poured me a cup of black tea and added milk and sugar just the way I liked it. Another thing Elizabeth and I had in common, as it appears.

“Eat up then, we still have to go to Diagon Alley this morning. I’m afraid I won’t be able to reschedule”

I nodded absentmindedly as I ate my breakfast. Nana was in charge of all the Fawley House business since my parents had passed away. I had learned through one of our conversations that my family was one of the main publishers of books in Wizarding Britain. That was plenty of work to keep anyone busy. It also explained the ginormous size of our library at home.

Eventually, we finished our meals and were standing in front of the fireplace of the adjacent room. It was a pleasant looking drawing room with large sofas and armchairs, in the usual black-grey-blue palette.

Nana grabbed a small porcelain container and handed it to me. Thankfully to my Potter knowledge, I had an idea of what to do. I tossed a generous amount of floo powder in the fireplace and walked confidently in it.

“Diagon Alley!” I cried and the green flames engulfed me.

In no time, I reappeared in another place. I had barely managed to remain up by gripping on the side of the fireplace while coughing the soot trapped in it. I walked in the small, dingy room that I’d arrived in, and scanned the area. It appeared to be a dimly lit pub with just a few customers speaking in hushed tones.

 _This must be the Leaky Cauldron,_ I thought after a bit.

Not long after that, Nana appeared from behind me, _scourgifying_ both of our robes.

“Right then, let’s go”, she said, hurrying towards the back door.

I followed her promptly, falling behind her as she walked. We reached a brick wall of a small courtyard.

Just as I imagined Harry witnessed only weeks ago, Nana Connie tapped a few bricks with her elegant wand. The wall started trembling slightly and after a few seconds, it opened an archway in front of us.

My eyes grew to the size of saucers. Here it was, Diagon Alley.

The cobblestone road was lined left and right with shops bustling with witches and wizards of any age. The place was positively humming with excited customers, most likely doing some last minute shopping before the term started. From where I was standing I could see a glimpse of the colorful displays of books, potions, brooms and magical creatures.

“ _D’accord_.” Said Nana breaking me out of my trance. “What does your letter say again?”

I reached in my pocket and retrieved two yellow parchments. The first read:

“HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

   Dear Ms. Fawley,

   We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

   Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

   Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall”

I still couldn’t believe this was all real. I went to retrieve the other piece of parchment that contained the list of school supplies. Nana looked over from my shoulder and read aloud.

“Uniform, robes, books, equipment… Ok. Let’s go to Madam Malkin’s first to get your robes settled”.

We made our way through the crowd and briskly walked towards our destination.


	7. Chapter 6

 Once we finished with the uniforms and various robes, Nana and I moved onto the next items on the list.

The books were already taken care of, we had received the copies at home a week prior, but I still managed to drag my grandma over to Flourish and Blotts. The bookshop was exactly how I pictured it: small, cozy and with an entrancing smell of old parchment. I had to remind myself that we had plenty of tomes at home so that I didn’t raid the place.

The Potage's Cauldron Shop was next, were we grabbed my pewter cauldron. The thought of me doing Potions was terrifying; I hadn’t been great at Chemistry (even if that was my real parents major), so I didn’t expect to excel in the subject.

We stopped in Scribbulus Writing Implements for quite a while, it took me an awful lot picking quills and parchments. I also bought a diary that would reveal its contents only when recognizing the magical signature of the owner. It seemed a great place to start writing down everything I remembered about the Harry Potter books for future reference. I was bound to forget a few details with time. 

By noon, we had gotten almost everything, I was only missing a pet and my wand.

I walked excitedly towards Eeylops Owl Emporium, as I have a soft spot for animals. While I would have normally picked a cat since I’ve had them before and they’re quite independent, I decided to go for an owl. It was far more practical in this world.

I saw a few kids fawning over a beautiful Snowy Owl in the front of the shop, but for some reason I found myself staring at small tawny owl with a pair of mischievous eyes. It was trying to break free from its cage, picking at the locket with its beak, and it was failing miserably. It was utterly adorable and gained major respect points from me for wanting to get out on its own. I think I saw myself in the little creature, being all rebellious and combative while really looking quite harmless.

After I paid for him and some owl food, I walked away with my new companion called Ares.

The last stop of our tour was Ollivanders. The little sign in golden letters that read “Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C” was swaying in the wind when we reached the shop. A shiver went down my body, and I fought to compose myself.

This was a momentous occasion in a witch or wizard’s life. I would finally get my wand!

But being the worrywart that I am, I was dreading for the shop owner to somehow discover that I wasn’t a witch and that I was an impostor living in someone else’s body. What would happen then? Would they send me to Azkaban? Would I be _obliviated_?

Sensing my nervousness, Nana Connie put her hand on my shoulder affectionately and guided me towards the door. The bell rang alerting Ollivanders of our presence. The shop was small, very small, clustered by shelves with a million of little boxes and a single chair in a corner.

Out of the blue, a man with grey hair and shabby looking robes appeared from seemingly nowhere and greeted us.

“Ah! The Fawleys! I was wondering when you’d come to visit me”

Talk about tactless. The Daily Prophet had covered at length what happened to our family, so that was quite the awkward statement to make. Nana came even more close to me then, hugging me from behind.

“ _Bonjour_ Mister Ollivander,” said my grandma through gritted teeth “Elizabeth would like to purchase her first wand”.

The shopkeeper eyed me curiously and gave me a big smile.

“Of course! Come, child, we’ll take your measurements”

 _What an odd man_.

I untangled from my Nana’s arms and walked towards the man, cautiously watching his every move. With a flick of his wand, I was attacked by a few measuring tapes that took note of every inch of my tiny body.

Once they disappeared, Ollivander didn’t waste his time and went to grab a box in a shelf to his right. It was quite dusty, and even after he blew on it the thing was still quite filthy. 

“Ashwood, unicorn hair core, 10 ¾” described the man, handing me a light colored wand with a dark brown floral etching on its handle.

 _The moment of truth_ , I thought grimly.

I waved it towards a shelf, and to my surprise, the boxes in it came crashing down.

“No! No, no, no.”

Ollivander had to take it from me as I stared dumbly towards the disaster I had made. With a quick _reparo_ , everything was back to its original place.

I didn’t have time to collect my thoughts that Ollivander had walked back to me with another wand. This time it was an elegant looking, brown one with a darker grip.

“How about...” He paused dramatically and only after a few moments gave me the wand.

“Cedar, dragon heartstring, 12 inches” 

Ollivander looked at me expectantly and with an attempted swish and flick, I destroyed a vase of flowers on his counter.

“I think the core's right, but something is still missing” spoke the wandmaker, while searching through the shelves.

He halted in front of his counter, seemingly lost in thought, and then hurried towards a particular spot next at the entrance of the shop.

He came back in front of me with a triumphant grin.

“Let’s see this one”, said opening the box. “Fir wood with a Dragon heartstring core, 12 ½ inches long” he moved it around “reasonably supple”.

It was a black wand with a brown spiral handle resembling a tree branch. Tiny leaves were engraved on the top of the grip. The instant it touched my hand, I felt something in the pit of my stomach. There was no crazy aura or light forming around me, none of what I saw in the Harry Potter movies when he found his wand. But there was a sensation deep within me, I felt something move and connect with the piece of wood in my hands. It was bizarre.

I looked up at Ollivander and he gestured me to move it around. I waved it and a bright wave of silver stars came out of the tip of the wand.

“The survivor’s wand” murmured the man with an ominous tone. “Also particularly gifted in Transfiguration. Combined with a dragon heartstring core makes a powerful but quite unpredictable companion. This wand chose you, Miss Fawley. It is yours now.”

He gave a little bow and returned behind the counter.

Nana went ahead and paid, while I stared curiously at the wand lying in my hands.


	8. Chapter 7

I spent the next few days once more with very conflicting thoughts and feelings.

Sometimes it was as if I had fully forgotten who I had been in my previous life, and I was comfortable with my new one as Elizabeth Fawley. At first, I blamed it on the fact that I can be a little selfish, as this was a dream come true and it made sense that I wanted to fully embrace this magical world. But I wasn’t a monster, I couldn’t have forgotten about my parents and my friends. I needed to get back to them!

I had asked plenty of times to Nana Connie, but she told me time and time again that she didn’t know the merits of my parents’ experiment. All the notes on it were still in the Department of Mysteries, and couldn’t be accessed, as it was classified information.  
Like I have mentioned before, there was little I could read about my situation, as I had zero knowledge on what had happened to Elizabeth and me that day. 

But one thing was for certain now: I was starting to feel fully immersed in this new reality. 

There were moments when I was acutely aware that I didn’t belong, that I needed to find a way home. I would spend my evenings in the library to look random things up, anything really, that could give me an inkling of what was going on with me.

But there were times where I only cared about today and worried about what would happen at Hogwarts or what I read in the Daily Prophet. My mind clearly remembered everything about the Wizarding World from both my Potter knowledge and the information I gained since my arrival, and my heart perceived the people around me, Dixie and Nana, as my family. 

It didn’t help that everything about Elizabeth seemed to perfectly align with who I had been as a child. No one had noticed any change in my personality whatsoever; none of the things I said or did seem out of place. It was as if Elizabeth and I possessed not only the same physical qualities but also shared all of our personality traits. 

Was this the work of a powerful Compulsion charm? I had briefly read about it and made a little sense. Maybe whatever my parents (Elizabeth parents, not mine!) had done to bring me here, they had to add a charm of its likes to make sure I would carry on with my life as a witch in this world, and forget about my previous one.

This still allowed a trillion of other possibilities to be true. I came up with new ones every day, in fact. Maybe we’d switched at the time of the experiment, and she was living as me 25 years in the future. Maybe she never existed, and the experiment somehow had changed to course of time and inserted me in the fabric of this reality. Or maybe I had died and reincarnated as her in this world.

It was mind-boggling to say the least.

When I had moments of clarity like this one where I tried to analyze what was going on, I worked on my memories. Now that I had a journal where I felt I was safe to write things without anyone finding out, I penned down all I remembered.  
Starting from all the little facts about my past life to all the excruciating details of the Potter books I could recall, I made sure I didn’t miss a thing. I couldn’t forget, I wouldn’t allow myself to. Without those memories I was lost, I wasn’t myself, and one way or another I needed to retain that knowledge to either get back or survive here.

It also occurred me that it would be wise for me to learn Occlumency. I most certainly didn’t want people poking into my mind and finding out about my dirty little secret. No, I’d have to pick it up as soon as possible. Now, with pick up I meant “try to get somewhere” with it. I remembered form the books that it was an incredibly difficult skill to learn, but I knew I needed to get a semblance of some mental barrier before anyone would try Legilimency on me. Still, it was a long way there, and I was still reading through the first few chapters on the subject.

On my breaks from my work on all these things, I would fool around with my newly purchased wand. I couldn’t help myself, having a magical stick to play with was thoroughly distracting.  
I practiced a few simple spells, levitating and summoning ones at first, but I also tried some jinxes. Just in case I needed them, you know.

I was able to perform magic as an underage witch because the Trace that was put on me when I was born had plenty of interferences from Nana Connie’s magic, thus making it quite difficult for the Ministry to determine if it had been her or me to cast a spell. It was a well-known fact that the Trace was mostly for muggle-born wizards and witches, while half-blood and pureblood households were less monitored as they usually trust their magical parents to properly discipline their children in the case they perform magic. Quite the nifty advantage I had. 

The days went by, and suddenly, it was the night before my departure from Hogwarts. 

I was sitting at dinner with Nana, the table was set for a formal banquet. She had instructed me to get cleaned up and wear my best robes, as it was a tradition of her family to celebrate thoroughly before the young ones had to leave for school. It was quite sad to see it was just the two of us, but we were the surviving members of our clan, so it’d have to do.

We chatted about our day and at some point, Nana went down memory lane and recounted stories of me as a toddler, just like any good grandma would do. I could see she was overwhelmed with emotions when she described my first case of accident magic (“ Edmund couldn’t make you put down that cat, zee poor thing!”), and was probably due to the fact that she had to say goodbye to me soon. 

Once we had finished and thanked Dixie for the wonderful meal, I followed her to her room. It was situated on the same floor as mine, the first one, in the west wing.  
We reached an ivory dressing table facing the windows, crowded with perfumes and makeup of all kinds. It could very well fit a palace like Versailles in style and size and didn’t seem to belong to this house because of its light coloring. I supposed she had brought it here from her own home in France.  
She took out her wand and gently tapped onto a wooden jewelry box on the table. It made a clicking sound and opened for us.

Nana then searched through its contents, as I watched enraptured the many different rings and flashy earrings she was pushed aside. She stopped her search when she took out a small gold necklace. Its pendant was shaped like an eye. 

“This,” she said turning to face me, “ is zee Fawley family emblem”. 

She made a motion for me to turn around, and I complied. I felt her hands move around me as she clasped the piece of jewelry to my neck.

“Zee's eye is an amulet that protects against envy and bad luck. It was in your family vault at Gringotts and has belonged to your Ancient House for many generations”.

I turned to look at Nana and saw her watery eyes. 

“Your parents would have wanted you to have it”, she said in a whisper only audible because I was standing so close.  
She hugged me then, and I clasped my arms tightly around her too, overcome by emotion. 

We stayed like this for a while.


	9. Chapter 8

The long awaited day had finally arrived: in just a few hours, I would depart from Kings Cross and leave for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

As to be expected, I barely managed to get any sleep, and when Dixie came into my room, I bolted up immediately from my bed.

I bathed and got dressed in a cream collared blouse, black skirt and tights, with a pair of leather boots to complete the look. I secured my fringe to a side of my face with a silver pin as I was trying to grow it out, because I always hated it and couldn’t wait to get rid of the hideous look. It was infuriating that I had to do it all over again, but alas, that’s what you get when you regress to your childhood days.

Thankfully for me, I was now given the chance to correct my awful sense of style of when I was a youngster with my 23 year-old experience with fashion. Besides, I needed to play the part of well-dressed pureblood heiress, so I couldn’t just show up in a muggle jeans, shirt combo and bed hair. That wouldn’t do.

I barely touched breakfast that morning, and I checked about a dozen times that I had everything in my school trunk. Nana was fretting too, and would randomly ask me if I had forgotten anything important, always adding “if you need anything at all, you can owl me and I will send it to you immediately!”.

This time, instead of using the floo network to get to London, Nana decided to side-apparate to the station, just to make sure we’d arrive on time. We were quite early in all honesty, but I was glad to have the extra hour to get to the platform and find a compartment.

I’d been to Kings Cross before, but today it felt different. I noticed all the odd looking people that were suspiciously dressed, even if I guessed they had toned it down on this particular day. Not to mention the unmistakable trunks with a big “H” on their front; could have fooled me not long ago, but today they were an obvious sign of magical folk.

Nana Connie, who had also to muggle down her clothing just a little in order to blend in, was helping me push the trolley through the crowded station. We reached the space between platform 9th and 10th, and started walking towards the wall that would grant us the access to the Hogwarts Express.

I closed my eyes when we walked through the concealed entrance, and when I opened them again, I saw it. The train was a large steam locomotive tinted in bright red and black accents. The nameplate “Hogwarts Express” with the school logo shined brightly in the morning light, and I almost didn’t notice the other families trying to walk around me because of how much I was contemplating the express. 

Snapping out of my reverie, Nana and I walked to a railway employee who was sorting out luggage, and left my trunk and Ares’ cage with him.

“You should get going, _mon cherie_ ” said Nana with the saddest tone I’ve ever heard her use. “You can find a nice place to seat and meet with zee other first years”.

“Ok” I responded, looking around me and seeing students already boarding the train.

She looked to be about to burst out crying, so she squeezed the living daylight out of me. A normal 11 year old would never allow such an embarrassing display of affection, so I attempted to escape her crushing hug.

“I promise I will write often”, I said, trying to calm her down.

“You better!” lamented Nana “Owl me as soon as you know where you have been sorted to”.

Her cheeky grin made me chuckle, as I had never answered her original question about my preference for any Hogwarts house.

“I will”, I promised with a smile. I turned to leave, but then went back on my decision and hugged her again. She kissed me tenderly on the head and pushed me towards the train.

“Go! _Bon voyage, cherie_ ”

I beamed at her, and then finally went over to the nearest carriage. I hopped on board, and made my way through the busy corridors, where students of all years were chatting up. I heard glimpses of conversations about their summer, talks about Quidditch (which I was mostly caught on, because it was such an exciting sport not to follow in my opinion), and nervous comments on future exams that term.

I reached an empty compartment and settled down with my leather satchel. It was still early, so it wasn’t that hard to find. I looked out of the window and saw Nana still out there, smiling up at me. I waved towards her, but suddenly saw a blonde woman dressed in refined black robes approach my grandmother. I couldn’t see much of her face, but she had captured Nana’s attention, as she immediately sported a serious look on her face. I wished I could overhear their conversation…

That thought was interrupted by the opening of my compartment, and from the sliding door appeared two boys with first year uniforms.

One was pale and stringy looking, with a wild mess of brown hair on top of his head, while the other had ebony colored skin and pointed aristocratic features.

“Could we join you?” said the darker boy, with manners and apparel that screamed pureblood from miles and miles away.

 _Let’s get this show on the road_ , I thought.

“Of course” I responded with a polite smile.

The two put their small bags (all very expensive looking, if I may add) in the luggage rack above the seat, and proceeded to take their place on the opposite side of mine.

“If I may introduce myself, my name is Blaise Zabini”, said the boy who had addressed me before, extending his hand towards me. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance”.

Boy, they had taught them well. 

“Elizabeth Fawley, the pleasure is all mine”, I countered shaking his hand with gusto.

The fair boy on Blaise’s left also promptly offered his own.

“Theodore Nott” added when I took it.

“I’m really sorry for you loss, Miss Fawley. I read about your parents in the Prophet”, spoke Blaise out of the blue, shocking me a little. But it made sense if I thought about it, most pureblood families raised their kids to know all about the other Ancient Houses and proper etiquette to address them.

I nodded stiffly but tried to direct a courteous smile his way.

“Please call me Lizzie, no need to be formal if we’re going to be classmates”.

Blaise seemed taken aback by that, and looked almost hurt by my comment, but it was then that Theodore intervened. 

“Yeah, mate. Drop the act, you can’t seriously want to speak like that for the whole year”

Blaise considered him for a moment and then puffed his chest in a peacocky-kind of way.

“But it makes me look sophisticated!”

“Do you even know how to spell sophisticated?” responded Theodore without missing a beat. As his companion didn’t answer him, a big grin appeared on his face.

I tried to cover up the giggle that was escaping my mouth, and ended up faking a cough to do so. The boys turned towards me and had very different expressions in response to my reaction.

“Do YOU know how to spell it?” Blaise spat out accusatorily.

 _I’d be worried if I didn’t at my age_ , I thought dryly.

“Of course I do” I responded with an arrogant tone. They didn’t know I was older than them in spirit (or was it mind?), so I didn’t have any problems toying with them a little.

“Prove it”, barked out the first year, crossing his arms.

“Let’s see.. S-O-P-H-I-S-T-I-C-A-T-E-D.” I finished, grinning victoriously at him. In all fairness, I was quite the capable speller at their age, and would have likely boasted about it if given the chance.

Blaise looked at Theodore for confirmation, and he nodded. 

“Call me Theo”, he said then.

Blaise looked at my surprised expression for the change of topic, and clarified.

“He only likes swots like him” with a slightly disgusted tone.

“But I’m still friends with you, am I not?” offered Theo with the fakest innocent look in the world.

“That’s because you hope to upgrade to ‘wicked' like me, bookworm”

I shook my head at the two, as they bantered back and forth.

The train whistled then, signaling the start of our journey towards Hogwarts. I looked out of the window and searched for my Nana once more, and once I found her I waved to her one last time. The express started moving forward, and the bustling platform disappeared from the view.


	10. Chapter 9

“I’m telling you, the Magpies won’t have a chance against the Tornados”

“I don’t know about that, they were brilliant against the Arrows”

“What are you talking about? Everyone knows MacFarlan bribed his way out of that match!”

“They don’t seem the types to pull a Tornado all of a sudden”

“Hey listen, at least we’re doing better than that poor excuse for a team you root for, the _Holey_ Head Harpies”

I huffed angrily at that last comment and was about to give Blaise a piece of my mind on his own sad little team, that Theo spoke loudly over our discussion.

“What is it about this sport that turns people into dimwits?”

Blaise and I both turned at the same time and sent him a death glare. We almost launched ourselves in a heated debate on the merits of Quidditch, but the door of our compartment swung open.

In front of us were a petite girl with big, bushy brown hair followed by a chubby boy with a terrified expression.

Merlin help me, I was face to face with Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom.

“Has any of you seen a toad? Neville here has lost one”, recited the young student with practiced ease, already clad in her black and grey uniform.

In order to avoid a diplomatic spat, I took the question before any of my travel buddies could.

“No, I’m afraid we haven’t” I said calmly, “but maybe you could ask a Prefect to summon it for you?”

The girl looked at me with a mildly surprised expression, but was quick to respond.

“Thanks, we’ll try to do that when we find one” she walked out of our door and motioned for Neville to come along. She hesitated for a moment but added “See you at Hogwarts!”. The duo of soon-to-be-Gryffindors left without another word. It was when the door finally closed that Blaise spoke again.

“That was Longbottom, wasn’t he?” said the boy to Theo, who hadn’t lifted his head from the heavy tome he’d been reading until then.

“So it seemed, Blaise, why the sudden interest?” drawled out the other, while aggressively turning the page of his book.

“I dunno, I haven’t seen him since I was 6 when Mother forced me through a play date with him and that daft as a bush McLaggen”

Theo rolled his eyes at that. “Don’t remind me, I met that tosser at a charity ball my aunt threw a year ago. Worst evening of my life”

_Gosh, they are so dramatic_.

“And pray tell, what did this McLaggen do to make you so miserable, Theo?” I asked raising a questioning eyebrow at him. He finally looked up and met my eyes, straightening his shoulders.

“Well, for starters he wouldn’t stop talking about how his uncle Tiberius will help him get far in Ministry when he’s older” he sighed “and then went on an atrocious rant about his nogtail hunting sessions”. I wrinkled my nose at that but allowed him to continue.

“And I couldn’t even get up and leave! I was supposed to entertain him as he was the only other kid in the room” finished Theo moving his messy hair away from his face.

“Mate, that’s why I didn’t come in the first place, I knew it was a boring event”, commented Blaise with an unperturbed face.

“Couldn’t you just fake a cold or something?” I inquired.

Theo smiled sheepishly at that. “I had for three times in a row, they wouldn’t believe me for that one”.

I laughed a little at that, but then heard the Prefects instruct the first years to change into their uniforms, as it wasn’t long before we’d arrive at Hogwarts. I excused myself from the two boys, grabbed my satchel and walked out of the compartment towards the lavatory.

Once I was walking in the corridors of the train, my mind and poor heart had a moment to catch up with the current events. First of all, I had very unexpectedly befriended two future Slytherins and found them quite the enjoyable company so far. It was good considering that I still needed to uphold my presumed pureblood heritage among my peers. It made sense with my upbringing. Second, the Gryffindor princess and know-it-all of the golden trio had been in the same room as me for a hot second. It was quite surreal experience really, when one of the most well known characters of a book series just casually chats up to you in real life. If this could be considered real at all.

I pinched myself, as I often did since I had woken up in this universe, but I was only left with a little red bruise on my arm.

Once I was fully changed and ready, I went back to my seat. Theo and Blaise were now discussing our new school, as we were to approach the castle in just a little.

“Just you wait and see, Theo. You’re so going to Ravenclaw” teased the dark skinned boy.

“What’s wrong with that? I think it’s a perfectly acceptable house to end up in” countered Theo with a huff.

“Don’t get cheeky with me Nott, you know your dad would murder you if you didn’t get Slytherin”

At last, the so dreaded discussion was taking place. Theo didn’t respond to Blaise’s zinger, and instead turned towards me.

“What about you? Have an idea of where you’ll be sorted?” The question seemed to get the attention of the other boy too, and they both awaited my response.

“I don’t know” my tone betrayed my nervousness “I mean, I know it won’t be Hufflepuff for sure”

“We could have told you that” chuckled Blaise.

I narrowed my eyes at him and continued, “My dad was in Ravenclaw though”.

Theo seemed content with that answer, and smirked at Blaise. The latter didn’t look convinced one bit.

“Sure, you could be right at home with the Ravenswots, but you seem a little too feisty for them”

Was he drawing conclusions after only having met me earlier today?

“Well but you get sorted into a House because you value its qualities more than the others, not because you’re more or less extroverted”

Theo immediately joined my musings. “I actually think it’s a combination of your personal motivations in life and the way you tackle the world around you”

“Oh, so the reason why you do things and the method you use to go about them?”

Theo smiled at me. “Exactly!”

Blaise looked at us dumbly. “Here you go again boring me with your swotiness”.

Theo and I ignored his complaints for the remaining time on the train, which wasn’t a lot thankfully because the boy does not like being snubbed. The train halted, and my heart started beating out of my chest. We had arrived.

 


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the late update, I was swamped by work this past month. I'll try to make it up for it now with the winter break. Thanks for liking and following the story, more is coming!

Blaise, Theo and I hopped off the steaming express, trying not to get walked over by the overexcited first years on the platform.

My first impression of Hogsmede station was that it was incredibly chilly. I wrapped my winter cloak even more tightly around my small body, and started making my way through the crowd. The sun had already set; lanterns were placed on the ground to pave the way for the students.

As I looked around I saw a small glimpse of the somewhat faraway village. A soft cloud of mist was setting all around it, allowing the lights coming from the little cottages and shops to illuminate the area in the most delightful way.

I was mystified by once again witnessing a place that originally belonged to my imagination come to life before my eyes. Would I ever get used to all of this?

“Firs’ years this way! ” I heard a low baritone voice say from a distance.

Shaking my head in attempt to compose myself, I kept on going through the platform. Theo and Blaise were looking just as curious as me, and we were all lost in thought when we came to a sudden halt as the other students had stopped. Before us, a giant man with long brown hair and beard, dark winter clothes and a genuine smile was waiting with a rather big lantern.

 _And here’s Hagrid_ , I concluded looking at the man.

“Firs’ years, follow me!” he said, motioning to go his way. The half-giant then turned on his heels and headed forward, a sea of children on his trail.

Blaise looked my way with the most skeptic expression I had ever seen an eleven year old make. I shrugged, but I could feel a small smirk appearing on my face.

We walked through a narrow path completely surrounded by trees. It was so dark I had to make sure I wouldn’t step on fallen branches or exposed roots. The children all around me were talking in animated whispers, barely able to contain their anticipation.

“Ye’ all get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec” the giant called over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here”.

The path opened onto a big, black lake. And on the other side of it, elevated on a rocky mountain, there was a magnificent castle. It was medieval looking, with turrets and towers crowning the building and illuminating the area.

I wish I could have enjoyed more of the view of all the school grounds from where I was, but because of the late hour of the day, the castle was the only thing I could clearly see. Who am I kidding, I also think I wouldn’t have been able to look at anything BUT the castle in that moment, as I felt my heart swell up in my chest.

It was so ridiculously beautiful, and REAL. I kept repeating that last word in my head over and over again, as if trying to validate my feelings.

The night was particularly dark as only a quarter of the moon was high up in the sky, the little light it was shining was reflected on the dark waters of the lake. Once we reached its edge, Hagrid instructed us to get on tiny boats in groups of four.

I followed Blaise and Theo into one and a fourth student, a short boy who introduced himself as Terry Boot, soon joined us.

 _Ravenclaw?_ My mind tried to recall as we settled on the wooden boat. I couldn’t remember if he was an interesting character at all, but since I couldn’t even confidently state his house, I gathered he was another background student in Harry’s year.

No one was really able to speak at that point, besides the occasional “Oh!”s and “Ah!”s that we’d all emit as the little boats came closer to the castle grounds.

When we finally reached land, we all started walking up to the entrance of the school.

Theo was telling me quietly about this book he had read called “Hogwarts, A History”, where he found out that muggles can’t see the school but instead find an old ruin with a sign saying: "DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE".

Quite the nifty distraction from the best magical school of witchcraft and wizardry ever.

In the meantime, a pudgy looking boy had walked up to Blaise and was trying to converse with him, to no avail since he barley ever responded or turned his way. He looked oddly familiar, with that bowl cut and round form.

Immediately after that thought, another child had come next to Blaise, slightly taller and leaner than the pervious one, but with a similar dumb expression on his face.

Wait a second…

“Crabbe, Goyle!” I heard a boy call out with a slightly high-pitched quality to his voice.

I looked to my right where a white-blond student with pointed features was approaching our little group. He didn’t even spend a second gazing my or Theo’s way, he seemed in quite the bad mood. I had no doubt on who he was.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to leave me ever? Come on” he complained crossing his arms.

The two who were by Blaise’s side immediately scrambled to join the blond, who then left without another word and walked faster towards the front of the students.

I knew I had to feign ignorance on most of the people and things pertaining to this world, so I quickened my steps and caught up to Blaise.

“And just who were they?” I said unimpressed.

The boy turned to me, rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Just a bunch of losers” he said.

Seeing how my intent gaze was pushing for more details, he added “The two gorillas were Crabbe and Goyle, personal slaves of the one and only Draco Malfoy, the short albino who came last”

I had to stop myself from bursting out laughing at his description. I kept my mouth at a thin line to feign disinterest, but I could feel the corners of my lips turning upwards.

“And they’re not your friends?” I asked innocently.

“Please, Blaise hates Draco”, said Theo out of the blue, joining us.

“Oh?”

“Yep, can’t stand him. And honestly, he is so annoying and full of himself that I don’t blame him. But now that I think about it, maybe they aren’t friends because they’re too much alike” Theo finished with a small chuckle.

Blaise reached him with his fist and punched Theo in the arm.

“HEY!”

“So you learn not to be such a swot”

“What does that have to do with anything? I was just saying that you’re not that diff.. OUCH, Blaise stop!”

They were still being immature little children (well, because they WERE children, so I guess they were kind of entitled to), when we reached the oak doors of the castle.

Hagrid opened it up for us and allowed all the first years to get inside the entrance hall. Torches lit up the space, but their lights didn’t reach the ceilings of the room for how tall they were. Almost all walls were covered in moving portraits, and a big marble staircase was positioned at the very center of the place.

We all made our way up the stairs and climbed up to the first floor, where a tall lady wearing emerald robes and a pointed hat was waiting for us with a stern expression.


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back! Sorry for the wait, life kept me away from this story for some months, but I'm happy to return to it now :) I'll try write as much as I can, the adventures of Elizabeth Fawley are just beginning. I have so much in store for this character, and I can't wait to share it with you!

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall” said Hagrid as he approached the old witch.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here”

Judging by the loud voices that could be heard from where we were standing, I assumed we were just outside the Great Hall. The first year students crowded the space and silently waited for McGonagall to speak.

“Welcome to Hogwarts” said the professor. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.”

I looked around me and saw a wide array of emotions displayed on the other children’s faces. Some seemed satisfied with this arrangement, others appeared quite nervous.

“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.”

 _Right, because the Gryffindor Head of House truly believes that Slytherin is noble at all. Sure_. I thought rolling my eyes. There were aspects of the world depicted by JK Rowling that annoyed me to no end, like the highly stereotyped Hogwarts houses. Gryffindors were the good guys, Ravenclaws the bookworms, Hufflepuffs the weak, and Slytherin the evil characters. It was so bi-dimensional it made my brain hurt.

I held my head high, and tried with all my might to look unfazed. Gosh, I was too old not to keep myself together at a time like this; somehow it was getting to me that I would be soon sorted into a Hogwarts House. Even with all its flaws, Potter fans can’t help but dream of their sorting since the publication of the very first book. They speculate through online quizzes, psychological tests or generally referring back to the original lore of the stories and deciding for themselves which house fit best.

I wasn’t any different, and had thought about it a whole lot, but generally speaking most of us have characteristics that would grant us a spot in any of the four houses. I would bet that if I had been sorted every few years in my childhood and adolescence, my house would most likely be different every time.

The problem isn’t “sorting too soon”, like Dumbledores says talking about Severus Snape, no. The problem lies in sorting people in the first place. Categorizing real people doesn’t work and is highly unhealthy for the psyche; it’s only acceptable when you’re dealing with imaginary characters of a book. But oh well.

Still, while I could rationally see the faults in the Hogwarts system, I have always enjoyed being part of a group, and belonging somewhere. Heck, who doesn’t? I was looking forward to joining my house and finding friends and allies for the upcoming school year(s?).

So, since I couldn’t revolutionize everything for the sake of every Hogwarts child’s psychological development, I had to think about where I would want to end up, and ways to make the best of my time there. Yes, I had to focus on the “right here, right now”.

I was so lost in thought that I missed the rest of McGonagall’s speech, and only noticed my surroundings when we all started walking inside of the Great Hall.

The older students were gazing curiously at the newly arrived people, talking to one another and pointing at the crowd of children walking up the professors’ table.

_Wait a minute; they must all know Harry was on the train. That’s what they’re all excited about._

Of course, the Boy-Who-Lived is famous and it was no surprise that people wanted to see him at last. To be honest, I hadn’t seen a glimpse of the boy yet.

It was nice walking with Blaise and Theo, neither of them were chatting me up on the way to the sorting or looking for Potter. I was trying to get into my “Zen mode”, so I appreciated the silence from their part.

 _So. Worst-case scenario is that I end up in Gryffindor._ I glanced at the red and gold clad table all the way to my right, full of boisterous children.

 _Harry, Ron and Hermione will be there, AKA main plot would be happening right under my nose. While that is tempting, I’m better off somewhere else._ Unless the sorting hat decides otherwise, that is.

 _I guess Ravenclaw would be ok, not too many known characters; I can steer away from the loopiest and be fine. I can work with smart children, being more reasonable and all_. I took a deep breath and kept on thinking everything through. The only likely Ravenclaw I had met so far was Terry Boot, who was a few people away from me, chatting quietly to a dark haired girl.

I have to say, the prospect of solving a riddle every single time I had to reach the common room was dreadful, but overall it wasn’t the worst option.

Hufflepuff. Well. My main issue with them it’s all the fair play, hard work, and love. Which shouldn’t be an issue at all, they are the epitome of good people, but that means that it’d would require an awful lot of work to stick to their moral rules. Or at least, look like I did. _I bet they’re all nice and fun as long as you aren’t actively looking for trouble._ They don’t seem like the kind of people you want to anger, as normally the friendliest bunch holds the worst grudges if you ever disappoint them.

And lastly, Slytherin. The problem was that the vast majority of them were somehow tied with Voldemort, and while some of them had remained outside of the conflict, none of them had done anything in favor of Potter and the Light. It was a messy, messy situation to jump in all of a sudden. Not to mention Draco _Drama Queen_ Malfoy would be there, and god help me, Pansy _sodding_ Parkinson and all the other bullies. Nope, not interested, thank you very much.

Once more I had zoned out from the entire world, and the sorting was already ongoing. I heard the firm voice of McGonagall; she had just called Millicent Bulstrode. 

As I watched the pudgy looking girl approach the professor, my eyes focused on the magical artifact in the old witch’s hands.

I had no way to cover where I came from and who I really was from the hat, I hadn’t learnt Occlumency yet. Best way to deal with that was head on ( _pun intended_ ), and have the ceremony be over with as fast as possible. Then maybe bribe the hat later, so that it wouldn’t divulge my secrets to Dumbledore. Not an easy task at all.

 _Dumbledore_. I audibly gulped thinking of him. _He could be a big obstacle in my plans, maybe even use me for the “Greater Good” if he finds out I know the outcome of the war._

“Fawley, Elizabeth” I heard suddenly, the stern witch searching through the crowd of first years.

I blinked a few times, coming out of my stupor and forcing my legs to move. I desperately tried to cover up my stiff legs as I walked up to the dreaded stool, where for the first time I saw the expectant faces of my future professors. I bet that my face looked as alarmed as I felt then. My eyes then locked with the headmaster’s, and his blue irises twinkled softly. _Dammit, I have to look away!_

I averted my gaze immediately and looked elsewhere, trying to avoid a _Legilimens_ spell that could blow my cover. I decided to stare at the ceiling and focus on the lit candles that were floating over the Great Hall.

As I felt McGonagall take the hat and position it over my head, I took a deep breath. _Bring it on._

Not a second after I felt the material on me, I heard a booming voice in my head.

“Well, well! Finally something different from the eleven year olds I am used to!” said the sorting hat, sounding amused.

"Yes, I am a 23 year old muggle living inside the body of a pureblood witch. Please move on and get this over with”, I thought impatiently.

“And with such a feisty personality too! Now now, I do not think you’ve got your facts straight, dear. I see no muggle in you. But maybe this is a case of a past life manifesting itself, extremely fascinating but also very rare…”

That thought had me forget for a second about my plan. “No, wait. What? You’ve got it all wrong. I come from the future! I wasn’t even born in 1991!”

“Really? That is unheard of! What a wonderfully mysterious occurrence! But I am never wrong about magical auras, and your soul has no muggle heritage. I wonder if you were destined to be a squib in an alternate life, but it wouldn’t account for your interesting images of the future…”

I could feel Professor McGonagall move impatiently near me, which was a reminder that time was ticking. I needed to get sorted before it could raise any suspicions.

“Ok, you can muse over the whole thing until next September, let’s go back to business. No Gryffindor please, I can’t do that because of my ‘prior knowledge’ of the future…”

The hat cut me off . “However, you possess a dose of recklessness required for the house.”

“Still, I am no fool and know when to act. Moving on, Hufflepuff won't do, I am not so morally…pure, let’s say” I snickered.

“But it would help you work hard for your goals” responded promptly.

I continued with my rant. “Ravenclaw is probably your best option, I am decently smart and can hold my own among them. Slytherin would just complicate things…”

“My dear, I think you confirmed my theories on your character with this little monologue of yours” said suddenly the hat.

My eyes got as big as saucers. 

“WAIT, what do you…”

“SLYTHERIN!” roared the magical piece of cloth.


	13. Chapter 12

I almost didn’t hear the loud clap I received upon my sorting. I was still shell-shocked, my brain struggling to catch up with reality, and I only vaguely nodded at my fellow housemates as I sat down at the Slytherin table.

Ok. So. It’s not as if I didn’t expect it at all, Pottermore had confirmed it multiple times that I indeed was part of the snake house. As all Potterheads know, that is the closest thing to having JK Rowling herself pick for you. However, it was a whole other story hearing from the real sorting hat that you belong with the most misunderstood, morally grey characters of the series. Needless to say, I had a lot to process.

I looked up to see a small first year getting into Hufflepuff, and smiling so much it was contagious. I watched enraptured as he hopped off the stool and reached his table, welcomed by happy cheers. An older student even amicably threw an arm around his shoulders.

The Slytherins weren’t nearly as warm when a new student was sorted into their house. No big show, no extravagant demonstrations like the Gryffindors. Slytherins would always applaud for every single student, and would politely strike conversation with you if you seated next to them. It wasn’t enthusiastic, but not _that_ bad overall. Gave me time and space to think and breathe.

Then it was Malfoy’s turn, who took approximately half a millisecond to get sorted. His smirk was bigger than his entire face. _Merlin save us all._ I watched him waltz to the opposite end of the table with Crabbe and Goyle.

Soon after that Theo got called, and his expression was so terrified it was comical to say the least. Part of me wanted to reassure him that he was indeed getting into Slytherin, the other enjoyed seeing him squirm just a little. Not a moment later, he came running over to where I was seated, and plopped on the chair in front of me.

“I can’t believe it”, said out of breath. He too seemed in dire need of a moment to think everything through.

“Join the club” I replied sarcastically. When his sour look didn’t get any better, I offered a half-smile. “At least your father will be happy”. He rolled his eyes at that, but his shoulders seemed to relax a little.

“Right, Mr. Nott will indeed be content with the turnout”, said Theo, massaging his temples.

The room got suddenly quiet, and my attention was diverted to the front of the Hall. And it was then I saw him.

Round glasses, thin frame, and messy raven hair. The unmistakable trademarks of one Harry Potter.

I had to fight the urge to smile at the sight of him, the boy whose adventures and misfortunes had accompanied my childhood.

As I remembered from the books, he took his time to get assigned to Gryffindor, and I could almost hear in my head the whole conversation in Harry’s head with the hat about not going to Slytherin. Pity, it would have been fun otherwise.

“Everyone knew he was going to _them_ ” I heard Theo say in hushed tones. _Them_. I smiled a little at that.

“I don’t know, I could have seen him in Slytherin too” I daringly commented. This attracted the attention of a few others around me.

“Are you mad? He’s a Potter, his whole family has been in Gryffindor” snapped a blonde girl on my right.

Her face was heart shaped and perfectly symmetrical, her nose dainty. Baby blue irises were staring back at me with a hint of curiosity.

I took my time to consider her, carefully weighting my words before answering.

“Only someone who has been fated to greatness could be able to survive one of the most powerful dark wizards of our history”

I heard murmurs of approval and a few gasps for mentioning the Dark Lord so casually, but overall I had convinced my crowd.

The blonde, a first year just like myself, tilted her head ever so slightly and scanned my face for a minute. She then extended her hand.

“Daphne Greengrass, pleasure to meet you”.

I grinned and shook her hand. “Elizabeth Fawley, but Lizzie’s fine too”.

When _Potter show time_ was over, everyone resumed their own chats, and it was only after Blaise had sauntered over to where Theo and I were sitting that the Great Hall was filled with more silence.

Dumbledore spoke, welcomed us all to Hogwarts, and gave us the ground rules of the school. Seriously though, it was a pretty dangerous place to be in, I was baffled that we were even allowed so much freedom as we were.

When the banquet came to an end, the respective prefects guided every house to their common rooms. Ours was a lady called Gemma Farley, a strawberry blonde, green eyed 7th year with perfect teeth and petite build. Her voice was demanding but charming at the same time, and she ordered us to start following her.

We reached the dungeons in no time, as there was a door right outside the Great Hall.

When we arrived at the concealed entrance, I almost could not spot it. But I remembered from the Chamber of Secrets that without a password, the passage would not reveal itself.

The prefect uttered _Semper Sursum_ (“always aim high” in Latin) at a grey wall, and something softly clicked. Suddenly it moved, leaving space to dark entrance with wide stairs going downwards. 

As we walked down, the green-lit space opened in front of us.

Stone walls only ever interrupted by columns and big floor-to-ceiling arched windows, looking into the depths of the Black Lake.

The common room was tall, aquarium-like, with green lamps that illuminated the space. On the wall to the left of the main staircase was a crackling fireplace. A menacing looking snake carved out of stone crowned it, adding to the already eerie looking room. We were motioned to sit in front of it on the two facing black button-tufted leather couches, and we quickly obliged.

While I could hear some students whispering to one another in both fright and excitement, I was too busy looking around.

The common room was divided in a main area where we were currently in, and a right wing that resembled the style of the former, minus the fireplace.

On the farthest wall from the entrance, the space would twist in small, semi-circular sections almost completely encased in windows, with cushioned benches. I thought to myself that it was a perfect spot to admire the underwater scenery.

The rest of the walls were covered in tapestries with serpentine designs and various silver ornaments. Other furnishings like tall, dark libraries, a big wooden table in the middle, a few desks and forest green tartan armchairs completed the look of the place.

It was then that the Prefect loudly coughed to get our attention.


	14. Chapter 13

“Alright, then! Quiet, all of you. You’ll have plenty of time to chat after this”, exclaimed Prefect Farley in order to silence the crowd of first years.

The murmurs slowly faded, and about thirty pairs of eyes were intently staring at the blonde in front of the fireplace. The flames made her seem imposing, frightening even in the eyes of all the eleven-year-olds, new to all things Hogwarts. I have to admit it was quite intimidating.

Gemma took a few more seconds to scan the room before she began speaking again. The only audible background was the cracking of the fire and a faint underwater sound coming from the windows.

“Good evening everyone, it is my utmost pleasure to welcome you all to Slytherin house!” she grinned and paused dramatically, the reality of it all beginning to sink in. For the love of Go-… Merlin _(have to get used to saying that!)_ , it was all pretty surreal.

“For all of those who have been _living under a rock_ and are not aware of what of an honor this is, let me tell you a little more about this prestigious wizarding community.” Her sass grabbed everyone’s attention.

“Our house was established by Salazar Slytherin, an incredibly brilliant and accomplished wizard, and one of the founders of Hogwarts. He prided himself on his magical abilities and impressive pureblood lineage, and because of that he favored those who shared such heritage.”

 _Pureblood supremacists rejoice, there’s a school club just for you!_ I thought darkly.

“He chose as emblem a green serpent, the wisest and most cunning of creatures. And like serpents, all those who are Slytherins are particularly clever minded and resourceful.”

I glanced meaningfully at Crabbe and Goyle just sitting by the fire and raised a questioning eyebrow. I could hear Theo suppressing a laugh next to me.

“But most important of all”, continued the Prefect undisturbed, “Salazar preferred students who valued their ambitions over any other thing in the world. In other words, you are more driven and more likely to achieve success than any of your peers in this castle. Because all of you have what Salazar called the _seed of greatness._ ”

Gemma was looking at us all now, pausing every so often to gauge the emotions in the room. She was a very commanding public speaker, and all newly sorted Slytherins seemed as if they’d been promised eternal power and glory.

“BUT!” she roared and caught me off-guard, “that does not mean that you will not try your best in here and just expect success to fall on your lap. You are fortunate enough to be part of the most illustrious house of all Hogwarts, and because of that, you need to work hard for the house and ensure we are the always on the winning end. Us Slytherins, we play to win, not to participate.” She walked up to a small boy and her smirk was wide and slightly threatening. “We’ll make sure that message is clear enough in the next few weeks.”

The boy audibly gulped and nodded as if he had been asked a question. The Perfect just snickered and carried on with her speech.

“Let me dispel a few myths for you on our House. You will have heard a lot of unfounded gossip about us, a lot of hate. Forget about those useless comments, they are coming from a bunch of extremely sore losers who are jealous of our triumphs. Focus on what we are instead, and what makes us the best House. We are like our symbol: proud, powerful and most times misunderstood.

And like snakes, we hunt in packs. We have a deep-rooted sense of community and are extremely keen on being a unified front. Once you’re one of us, you’re one of the _elite_.” She held her head high, her words ritualistic and formal. “You can rest assured that no one will betray you in here, unlike in the other houses. It’ll always be an unspoken rule that if a fellow Slytherin needs help, any of us will come to their rescue. No dark corridor or hallways will ever look scary knowing that you have the serpents by your side.”

That seemed to have an effect on the audience, as people were looking at each other with solemn expressions. This whole thing felt like a social experiment; as if we were being forced to bond over the fact that we literally had no other allies but ourselves in the school.

“Now, I cannot _possibly_ tell you all there is to know about Slytherin, so because of that, every single one of you will be assigned to a sixth or seventh-year student that will act as your mentor for the first semester here. You will find your appointed Slytherin on the noticeboard next to the entrance." she paused and with a low voice added, "make sure you listen carefully to everything they say". In a second, her whole body relaxed once more, she moved gracefully towards the fireplace and continued "And just to throw in another housekeeping memo, on the same board we’ll post the password to the common room that changes every fortnight, so make sure to remember that.”

I was pretty sure I’d forget to check at least a million times.

“And if you forget the password for some _inane_ reason” she rolled her eyes at that, ” you might want to make friends in here and stay true to our tradition of fraternity among us Slytherins.”

I turned to Blaise and Theo who were smiling sheepishly at me. I felt a little relieved seeing them so eager to be my house buddies.

“And that’s it, folks. Professor Snape, the potion’s master at Hogwarts, is our Head of House and will give you his own welcome when he gets the chance this week. He’s a little on the scary side, but he has a soft spot for Slytherin, so make sure not to anger him and you might just survive his class.”

The idea of having Snape as head of the house was far from enticing, but alas, it was better than being Gryffindor and having to deal with his hate at Potions every day. _I’ll leave that to Harry, thank you very much._

“Remember, we are a family” she paused on the last word and slowly continued “and as such, whatever happens between us STAYS between us. There’ll be consequences I’d rather not say if it were to happen otherwise”, said Gemma cryptically, her eyes twinkling softly in the dark common room.

She then instructed us to go check out our dormitories and get ready for the following day. Once we’d been dismissed, I waved Theo and Blaise goodbye and went to the right side of the entrance arch, where the girl’s bedrooms were located.

The rooms seemed carved out of stone and were alike in furniture and decorations, but varied in shapes. Some were rectangular, others perfectly squared. Mine was a long corridor of four lined up four-poster beds, with one wall completely made of glass overlooking the lake. If I ever wondered what being a goldfish was like, I had now the chance to live in the closest thing resembling a fishbowl.

The forest green drapes and silver linings, together with the greenish lamps only added to the underwater ambiance. I found my trunk with my initials at the very first bed near the door and plopped down on it to test it out. I then heard the door of the room opening and saw three girls entering the dormitory.

It was the heart-shaped, blonde girl from earlier, followed by two other ones I had yet to meet. Daphne approached me with a slight smile, seeing a familiar face seemed to put her in a good mood.

“Hello there, I’m Lizzie Fawley” I offered my hand to shake to my new roommates.

“Viola Richmond” sputtered a very ginger and very pale looking girl; her grey eyes were oddly bright in the dimly lit room. Her hand barely made any contact with mine, as if afraid to contract any lethal germ from the interaction. She swiftly moved to her bad at the far end of the room.

I then turned to the other one standing right beside Daphne, a brunette with pitch-black eyes. Her cheekbones were prominent, her face serious. She went to adjust her black-rimmed rectangular glasses and then formally introduced herself.

“My name is Lily Spencer-Moon, with “Spencer” and “Moon” hyphened, not one word”, she tattled with a monotone voice. “Related to _the_ Leonard Spencer-Moon”.

She looked at me waiting to make a connection and recognize her. I obviously had no idea who this Leonard was, so I just dumbly stared back.

“Riiight” I responded sounding very confused. Nothing seemed to come to mind.

She was puzzled by my ignorance. “How do YOU not know of all people? Leonard Spencer-Moon! Minister of Magic right after Hector Fawley, _your grandfather_ , after he was forced to resign” she sneered, making me want to punch her face. Dear Morgana, it's as if she had prepared the whole little speech for years before actually meeting me.

“ _Great_ -grandfather” I corrected through gritted teeth, “ You mean you’re related to the tea-boy who got promoted? That’s sweet, I’m sure you must be proud”. I was glad I remembered _some_ History of Magic to counter back. 

My snarky comment didn’t go unnoticed by Daphne, who was now sitting on my bed and watching the heated exchange.

Lily’s temper flared up, as she fidgeted with her glasses. “He was one of the best Ministries of Magic yet! Unlike _Flamboyant_ Fawley who was such a disappointment”.

I clicked my tongue and was about to respond when Daphne intervened.

“Aren’t you related to the Muggle Royal family too? There’s that Diana Spencer who’s Princess of Wales now”. I turned to look at her; she had a devious smile made her look like the Cheshire cat.

The comment made Lily press her lips in a thin line, and look intently at the blonde. She had basically called her out on not begin pureblooded and it was priceless.

“Yes, indeed, we are related” her eyes never leaving Daphne’s “but we rarely ever see her”.

Daphne continued without missing a beat. “It must be hard dealing with the adultery scandal right now, could compromise her marriage to the future King of England”, she responded sweetly at Lily.

The brunette just mumbled a few words back and promptly excused herself to go to sleep. I just gave Daphne a look of pure adoration, and she mouthed a “You’re welcome” as she went to bed as well.

 _Man, these children are out for blood_ , I thought while prepping myself to sleep. I should have expected weird rivalries among kids, but these rich brats liked to mess with family names and brag about pretty much anything. I was also surprised at my own anger at Lily for speaking badly of some relative I had never met. I guess I had been sorted in Slytherin for a reason.

I don’t know when I managed to fall asleep that night; the last I remember was the lulling sound of the water against the windows.


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Believe it or not, I never truly stopped thinking about this fic, so here I am with an update.

I woke up much later and half expected for it to be midday. The events of the previous day had knocked me out, and I struggled to believe they had all taken place. I shook my head in my pillow fighting the headache that was slowly drilling my brain.

Out of habit, I tried to reach for my phone to check the time, and when I didn’t find it, I lightly facepalmed. Thankfully I had learned the spell for it, so I grabbed my wand from under my pillow ( _Constant Vigilance!_ Moody would be proud) and slowly flicked it.

6:45 AM.

_How on earth am I up this early?_

Quite surprised with myself, I tried looking around the pitch-black room and could just make out the sleeping forms of my roommates. I had neither intention nor desire to wake them up; it was their job to get ready in time.

With a swift motion, I rolled out of bed, trying to be as quiet as possible. After years of sneaking out of bed late at night, I was as silent as a cat. My hands reached for my hair and pulled it into a messy bun, my eyes still sleepy and unfocused. 

With a low _Lumos_ I searched for my uniform and toiletries and headed to the bathroom at the end of our room. I made quick work of cleaning and getting ready for the day, and as soon as I was done I got out of the sleeping quarters.

The common room was more populated than I expected, apparently, Slytherins were used to waking up early. I searched for familiar faces, but when I saw none, I decided to go to breakfast on my own.

My ascent from the dungeons helped me wake up a little more, as the cold, large corridors and staircases were very much a labyrinth and required my full mental abilities. I wrapped my arms around my tiny body under the cloak, and soon I arrived at the entrance of the Great Hall. The doors were wide open, and a low chattering was filling the room.

As one would expect, at 7:30 in the morning you could mostly find Ravenclaws and Slytherins at breakfast. I walked swiftly to the very end of my House table, towards the professors’ one, where I caught a glimpse of Blaise and Theo.

“Morning!” greeted enthusiastically Blaise as I approached. His smile was too big and bright for the time of the day. I eyed him suspiciously. 

“Morning to you too, Mr. cheerful” was my response, as I sat next to Theo and opposite him. The brown haired boy seemed to mirror much more my distaste for early rising, judging by his grumpy expression.

“It’s our very first day at Hogwarts, we need to be fully ready for what’s ahead” announced Blaise as he bit into his toast and looked around himself with an enthusiastic expression.

Theo was busy reading the Prophet and didn’t even look my way when he spoke.

“Don’t mind him, he’s always like this in the morning” muttered and then took a sip of tea. “Bloody annoying if you ask me, but he can’t seem to stop”.

This response got a reaction out of Blaise, as he immediately frowned at his friend. Then, a split second after, he turned towards me and flashed another smile.

“I am only trying to start the day with the right foot! I need to make a positive impression on our upperclassmen if I want to make a name for myself here” exclaimed proudly. His Slytherin ambition was quite apparent, and the fact surprised me considering his young age.

I cocked an eyebrow at him, looked at Theo who just raised his shoulders in response.

Blaise was unperturbed by our lack of enthusiasm and continued with his rant.

“Have you all met your mentor? Mine is a seventh-year girl called Zoe Accrington, I made sure I introduced myself last night. A bit stuck up, but I’m sure I can work with her”.

My brows furrowed in thought as I recalled the other night’s speech by our Perfect. I completely forgot to check who mine was that morning, and honestly, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I shrugged and turned to Theo, who was now folding the prophet and finishing his breakfast. I snatched it from him and poured myself some juice.

“I read mine is a certain Peregrine Derrick, I don’t know who the bloke is yet”, admitted the boy with a seemingly worried expression.

“I have no clue who mine is” I replied nonchalantly, biting into an apple and opening the newspaper. When silence met my answer, I looked up to see a livid Blaise.

He was evidently appalled by our nonexistent sense of initiative, and he leaned forward with a contrite face.

“That’s no good! You both need to make the effort to go and find them”, insisted Blaise with urgency. “This was the only thing my mother made me swear I wouldn’t forget to do here, she repeated more than a hundred times that I needed to treat my mentor extremely well.” Immediately after he finished the sentence, he made sure to politely nod at a group of older Slytherins passing by.

“What do you mean? How is that important?” I wondered out loud, puzzled by the whole concept. “I mean, I get that we have someone to go to if we get lost or need help with a professor, but I don’t see how I need to pester this seventh year as soon as I walk in here”.

“You don’t know, do you?” said a voice to the right of us. I turned and saw Daphne as she made her way next to Blaise. The latter eyed her curiously but kept silent as she took a seat next to him.

“Our house is not like the others” she hesitated a little and looked around to check if someone was overhearing the conversation. “Things… happen, especially for first years. The key to it all is our mentors”.

My skepticism must have been coming out of my pores since Theo intercepted the conversation before I could rebut.

“She’s telling the truth, even my father warned me about it” he adjusted his hair anxiously, “He wouldn’t ever share the full story, but there is some sort initiation to Slytherin. A series of trials and a ceremony of sorts”.

I rolled my eyes at that. “What is this, some kind of stupid test to see if we’re worthy?”, I chuckled at the thought. We weren’t trying to rush into some kind of fraternity, we were just a bunch of 11-year-olds in a British boarding school. 

Blaise glared at me. “This is not a joke. I’ve heard stories of it, and they were all terrifying”. The other two nodded at that.

“My cousin told me it’s been a tradition for over five centuries” Daphne sputtered, “He said he will never, ever forget it”.

This didn’t make sense. How was it that no one knew about this? The books never mentioned any kind of special initiation for the Slytherins or any strange behavior of the first years.

“Does anybody know about this? How do they keep it a secret from the parents?” I asked curiously. “If it’s that scary, I’m sure some crybaby couldn’t handle it and spilled the beans”.

Theo shook his head at that. “I heard they make you take an oath that forbids you from saying anything about it to anyone who isn’t from Slytherin”.

I had to pause at that and consider his words. It started to sound more and more suspicious by the second. 

“How bad is it?” I dared to ask. Daphne’s blue eyes grew darker at that.

“Very bad. If you don't do as they say you most likely will get bruises, some broken bones even.”

“WHAT?” my exclamation momentarily caught the attention of some nearby Ravenclaws. My fellow housemates were not pleased and proceeded to shush me.

“I’m sorry! I just can’t understand how can the school not know of this if all the Slytherin first years get sent to the Hospital Wing by the end of the month”.

A smirk suddenly appeared on Theo’s face. “No worries there, my father told me Gryffindors are still the number one most hospitalized house of the whole school, even without any kind of initiation.”

“Serves them right for being a bunch of reckless tossers” snickered Blaise.

“Still,” I said unconvinced, “I can’t imagine what the hell they’d have us do that’s so dangerous”.

“I once heard of a kid that was told to jump into the Black Lake to poke the Giant Squid” blurted Blaise, “He hasn’t set foot in water ever since”.

“Another one had to sneak out after curfew and run around a group of Red Caps without a wand” muttered Daphne conspiratorially “And there was the story about the girl who had to steal a pair of Flitch's underwear”. She grimaced at the thought, and my nose wrinkled in disgust. 

“I know that they will play psychological games on us, to scare us” chimed in Theo. “And from what I’ve been told, they always find a way to make you do what they ask”.

“Who’s they?” my brain taking in all of the crazy tales took a moment to put it all together but quickly asked “The mentors?”

“Yes, they are the ones in charge of the trials” Theo was now growing apprehensive as the Great Hall was filling up with students.

I felt a light kick under the table and saw Daphne signaling us a group of older students sauntering up the Slytherin table. They were a group of boys, most likely in their final year, robust and intimidating. Their grins were growing wider just by looking at us all, their new victims. I could see them laughing and pushing each other excitedly. Most likely, this whole ordeal was some kind of revenge for whatever they were asked to do on their initiation.

The four of us sat in silence for the remainder of the time, the mysterious trials looming over our day.


End file.
